


The Morning After (The Pub Crawl)

by freezerjerky



Series: The Passage of Time [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: Eight different experiences of one Sunday morning.





	

i. Freya  
The morning after Arthur's birthday, Freya spends half an hour on the phone fighting with Will on why he should have come out, even if he doesn't like Arthur. She hasn't ever been hungover and the faint feeling of a headache she credits to Will being so very difficult. After she hangs up on him she steps outside to take a walk, smoke a singular cigarette, and pick up the morning paper.

Sunday mornings have become a sort of sacred space to her, a reminder that even though she lives with two rather energetic flatmates they both sleep in late on these days. She sets herself up in bed with the paper and reads it from front to back. There's an article about someone just a few years younger than her who's going to prison. The girl's got bottle blonde hair and she looks a bit lost. Freya thinks she looks a bit like one of her foster sisters, and she's relieved that the name isn't remotely the same.

Freya's adult life is really a series of anxiety and relief, anxiety and relief on repeat. The night out had used up the majority of her social energy for about a week, and she only wants to see certain people. When the paper's read, she tiptoes out to the kitchen, leaving it folded on the cluttered kitchen table. The flat's very small, with three bedrooms and one bathroom in a very compact area. It's what she gets for central London living. Still, she loves the sounds of hearing the city coming to life. It's a cycle that makes sense to her.

 

ii. Mordred  
Mordred's not as dense as he lets everyone believe. He knows Freya's been up and he knows that Freya likes her quiet on weekends, so he takes the opportunity for a lie-in. Sometimes he wishes he could peer inside whatever's in Freya's head, see if he could help her feel better. The system is not particularly kind to anyone, but Mordred knows he was lucky with the experiences he's had. He knows he was lucky with the time he had before he was in foster care.

When his lie-in has gone a bit too long, he pulls out his phone and glances at the texts. Apparently he'd met a few girls the night before, judging by the texts he'd received. He pulls his duvet over his head and groans. Now he's going to have to let these girls down easily because he doesn't possibly have time for dating and they're probably out of his league anyway. Maybe they won't text again and he can move forward without a guilty conscience? 

It's the temptation to make some breakfast that finally stirs him out of bed. Tea and toast will solve all his life crises. Besides, he's got to do some dry cleaning for Arthur before the workweek, or else he'll have to deal with the consequences.

 

iii. Elena  
Waking up is not one of Elena's strong points. She'd promised her father she'd meet him after lunch to go riding, but it seems very unlikely to happen as the day wears on. Nights like the one before are generally uncommon, but something about Gwaine made her want to rise to the challenge. Mostly it was because he seemed nonthreatening, but also like the type of man she wanted to show off too. Probably she wasn't that interested in shagging him, but it certainly was an option.

She eventually drags herself out of bed and pulls on some lounge clothes in which to make breakfast. There were some times, mornings especially, when she felt insecure in her skin, like she was still the little kid standing in a body that definitely didn't feel right. Her body felt right now after transition, but she'd grown wary of watchful eyes.

As she waits for her eggs to cook, she scrolls through her phone, humming a tune she'd remembered from one of the pubs the night before. At one point, Gwaine had taken about half a dozen photos of her pulling silly faces. At another point she'd texted five kissy faces to Mordred, Arthur's cute assistant. Hopefully Mordred didn't think she was a strange person for that. 

"Shit!" she exclaims, when she realizes the eggs are starting to burn, she saves them just in time, moving them off of the burner and on to her plate. She eats leaning against the counter and wonders if she should text Gwaine to see who got more numbers. Really, though, she knows it's got to be her and it would just be gloating.

 

iv. Gwaine  
There has never been a Sunday in Gwaine's life that he didn't sleep in as late as humanly possible. Usually that means about noon, but then he remembers he's obligated to feed Merlin's cat, George. With his usual lack of shame, he takes the lift in just pyjama bottoms (which he didn't wear to bed) and only gets lost once on the way to Merlin's flat.

Once inside, he feeds George about twice as much as Merlin has instructed and opts to doze on his couch. If he doesn't want the damn cat overfed, he shouldn't always be so keen to go away for a weekend of enthusiastic shagging. There's only the tiniest hint of bitterness in Gwaine when he has that thought, because mostly he's just reminded of the handsome man he'd met the night before.

Scrolling through his contacts, he finds Percy's number. Sending the first text can be the difference between getting a text back or not, he knows, so he really needs to choose something with some level of finesse. Percy had wanted Gwaine to have his number the night before, so that certainly helps his chances and he's thinking it's a good gamble.  
In the end he goes with "Hey ;)"

 

v. Percy  
Percy's at the shelter early that morning, spending some time socializing kittens before their feeding. He does this every other weekend or so, just to do some extra good in the world. Baby animals, he finds, are easier to wrangle than a room full of primary school students and he doesn't worry about them as much when he leaves the shelter.

It's several minutes after he receives the text that he has a moment to check his phone. (The kittens are climbing all over him and he doesn't have the heart to make them stop.) He shakes his head and has to keep from smiling at Gwaine's text. He doesn't trust Gwaine's intentions, not yet, probably not ever, but it's still flattering to have caught the eye of someone who looks more than a bit like a supermodel. The text can wait until later, he's got important work to do that morning.

One of the women who works in the shelter has been giving him a rather dopey look for a long while and he blushes, plucking a kitten off of his shirt and moving it to the ground. She's got everything ready for feeding them. Lance is going to regret missing out on socializing the kittens, but then again, Lance works with pets every day of his life. Percy's only got Butterscotch, the old orange tabby he'd adopted from the shelter soon after he moved to London. He's content, though, with his simple house and his half blind cat. There's no need for overly complicated romances or spending his time with someone who's going to break his heart.

 

vi. Lance  
The bakery around the corner had always been a temptation for him, and then Merlin had mentioned it so frequently last night. Merlin had said the owner was very friendly and kind and that the pastries couldn't compare. Lance decides on an impulse that morning to step inside and buy something to bring to the shelter for himself and Percy.

Among the very few flaws that Lance has, or so his friends will tell him, is his tendency to fall in love a bit too hard and a bit too fast. Naturally, when he sees the woman at the counter, smiling brightly with a beautiful floral dress it's love at first sight. He strides to the counter to place an order (two of whatever pastry she recommends as the best) and tells her he's been meaning to stop by for ages and that his friend suggested the place.

"Oh, Merlin's one of my most regular customers," she chatters as she reaches for two chocolate chip muffins. "His boyfriend lives nearby, I think. They're a very lovely couple, aren't they?"

"I just met the boyfriend last night, actually. He seemed like a very nice fellow. And Merlin's great, of course."

"He is. He's invited me to come out sometime with his friends and usually I don't like when customers are that forward but I mean, I suppose if it's the right friends..."

By the time Lance leaves he's got the name (Gwen) and number of the woman who owns the bakery. He'll have to thank Merlin later.

 

vii. Leon  
Leon's about structure- playing most everything by the book, even on his days off. He's dragged himself out of bed and gone for a run already, then returned to his flat to cook a full English breakfast. His toast is overdone but he eats it anyway, more or less absentmindedly as he reads through the paper. He skims through most of the articles, engrossing himself only in the ones that are about real, human needs and interests. He's struck by the image of a woman on the verge of prison. Dwelling on people like this can be difficult because he imagines what good he could, or couldn't, do as a lawyer for someone.

After breakfast and the paper, he folds it up and places it in his recycling bin. There's the feeling of dissatisfaction in his stomach that he usually tries to swallow down. He's tempted to go walking, maybe to Arthur's flat. That's probably not such a good idea, given that it's his birthday weekend and he's got his boyfriend over. He could stop by the bakery that's halfway between their flats, with the pretty woman with the curly hair and the handmade dresses.

With a glance at his watch, though, he decides that it's probably best to dive back into his weekend work. Maybe he'll have an early night, or he can ask someone to join him for dinner later. Regardless, it's best to spend his time doing good when he can.

 

viii. Arthur (and Merlin)  
Despite being the more intoxicated of the two the night before, Arthur's up earlier and feeling far less hungover than anticipated. He sits up and stretches, careful not to disturb Merlin. One of the very first things that Arthur learned about Merlin was that he loved to sleep and would take any chance he could to do so. Allowing him to stay asleep both respects this love and gives Arthur the chance to see Merlin asleep and then later happily sleep rumpled.

This morning Merlin is an interesting picture. His sock still dangles half off of his sleep and he has a smudge on his cheek from where Elena kissed him enthusiastically the night before. Arthur feels such a fondness for him then that he's certain he is in love, but he's going to wait longer to make sure the feeling settles in his chest and wasn't just a fluttering brief thing. Much as he wants to love Merlin, he also doesn't want to hurt him by lying or speaking too soon.

"You're staring at me, aren't you?" Merlin mumbles. "Let me sleep."

"You've got this big lipstick smudge on your cheek," Arthur explains. "I was staring at that, not you." He leans down to press a kiss to Merlin's lips. "Sleep in a bit, we don't have to be up for anything."

Arthur settles back into bed, pulling up the duvet and moving closer to Merlin. There's nothing better to do on a Sunday than have a lie-in.

**Author's Note:**

> For context of timing: The current events of this series take place in April of 2016- the Sunday morning in question is April 24th. I'm hoping to work out a more specific timeline in the future.


End file.
